Separation
by Numbatstuff
Summary: Based on Episode 3 of Pillars of The Earth. A continuation of my first story "Inspiration" exploring the relationship between Tom Builder and Ellen.


This story is entitled Separation. And for as much as it's about the physical separation that Tom & Ellen are enduring, it's also about the separation between their beliefs. Ellen is a self confessed witch who is fundamentally opposed to the church, whilst Tom is a devout man whose greatest dream is to build a beautiful cathedral to worship God.

It seems to me that this fundamental discord in their beliefs must have some effect on their relationship, and that's what I wanted to explore in this story (as well as lots of very smutty hotness in a cave!)

As per my last story, Inspiration, this is based purely on The Pillars of The Earth mini series, not Ken Follet's book.

And if we were amused by Tom's ability to have sex with his pants still on in Episode 2, we were absolutely astounded by his ability to do it without taking anything at all off in Episode 3! And for that reason, I decided they needed to have a bit of naked time…

…

Tom was restless. Restless and frustrated. He'd been restless all day. He'd been frustrated all month.

Tomorrow was to be the first day at the quarry. He'd waited for a long, long time to begin building his dream and was anxious to get started on the quarrying of the stone.

But tonight. Tonight he was going to see Ellen.

It had been a month since Ellen's hastily convened trial in front of Bishop Bigod and the monks of Kingsbridge Priory. A month since Philip and Tom had arranged her escape.

Before she left, Tom had held her tightly, kissed her mouth, whispered into her face, "go to the cave, take the secret route, when you arrive, tie a scrap of fabric to the horse's reins and let it go, when it arrives back here I'll know you've got there safely. I'll meet you there in exactly one month from today. I love you."

She had nodded. "I will miss you Tom Builder. Take care of my son. I love you."

By morning the horse had arrived back at the priory. There was much speculation as to Ellen's fate, but Tom maintained his ignorance. Philip was unaware that Tom knew exactly where she was. He thought it better that Philip didn't know.

But it had been a long and difficult month since she had left.

Tom looked across the table at Alfred.

Time seemed to have dragged as he anxiously waited for nightfall, but work had finally finished for the day and they were all gathered around the long tables eating their evening meal. Alfred and Jack were eyeing each other off as usual, like two juvenile stags in the springtime.

Tom shook his head. He was getting heartily sick of the standoff between these two. He didn't understand the basis of the animosity between them. Couldn't be bothered with it anymore. And being responsible for controlling them both was weighing him down.

"Alright boy?" he asked, looking at Alfred.

"Yeah Da," he replied sulkily, staring at Jack.

"Now remember what I told you. I'm going to the quarry later to make sure we'll be able to make a start tomorrow. Just to look over things. I'm going alone and under cover of darkness. If all is well, I'll be back by morning and we can gather the men and return there together."

Tom nodded towards Jack. "I'm relying on both of you to look after Martha. She's your responsibility while I'm gone and I'm expecting you two to put aside your differences and be responsible for once."

Alfred nodded reluctantly. They'd already had a heated discussion earlier that day as to why Alfred couldn't accompany his father on the journey. Tom had told him that he needed to travel quickly and quietly, didn't want to be seen.

The truth was quite different though.

The truth was that he wasn't going to the quarry at all. He was going to see Ellen.

…..

As night fell heavy and dark on the forest, it began to rain. Tom pulled the hood of his cloak over his head as he rode, but it didn't stop stray rivulets of water from running down his chest every now and then. The rain got progressively harder as he rode, but it couldn't dampen Tom's spirits. Nothing could have dampened his spirits right then.

It had been a hard long month since Ellen had fled. He'd had to deal with the constant bickering of the two lads and Martha was missing the female companionship that Ellen provided her. She'd already lost her mother, and Ellen was the closest she'd had to a friend in Kingsbridge.

And progress on the cathedral was painfully slow. The monks were doing the best they could, but they were unskilled labour and their workday was punctuated by prayer and ritual.

Tom had hoped to get the foundations dug within the month and have all the necessary timberwork completed; wheels and winches and scaffolds constructed and ready to go for when the stone started arriving on site. But they'd only just achieved in a month what a team of skilled workmen could complete in a week.

He'd discussed his problem with Philip, asked for some skilled labour, but the money they had available was being reserved for the quarrymen and the rest of the skilled labour couldn't be employed until Philip had sold some of the fleece at Winchester.

Still, he sighed, plans were starting to fall into place. With God's blessing, quarrying would begin tomorrow and Philip would be taking his fleece to the market soon to raise some much needed funds. Then they could start building in earnest.

And in the meantime. He smiled to himself despite the miserable weather; in the meantime he would be able to spend this one precious night with Ellen.

How he'd missed her. Not just in his bed, but in his life. He hadn't realised how much he'd begun to rely on her. Until she wasn't there.

His body thrummed in anticipation of seeing her. His eager cock was pressing uncomfortably against the front of the saddle. Thoughts of what the night's events may contain began to twist and wind through his mind as he rode through the rain. Not just thoughts of making love to her. Although he longed to make love to her again. But first he wanted to hold her, smell her hair, touch her face, talk to her. Tell her of his troubles. Listen to her sage advice. She calmed him and centred him and that was what he needed above all right now.

He had told her that he loved her for the first time before she fled into the dark night, and she had done the same. He wanted to talk to her about their feelings for each other; wanted to convince her to marry him and to come back to the priory. One month without her had been enough. He didn't think he could endure another month of separation.

The cave finally came into view and he slowly pulled his mount to a stop. He quickly slipped off of the horse, leg over the front of the saddle to protect his sensitive groin, and tethered the animal. Flickers of light escaped intermittantly from the cave entrance. It looked welcoming and warm in the cold, wet night.

He pushed aside the leafy branches disguising the opening and his heart leapt. Ellen had her back to him, tending the warm fire and as she rose and turned, their eyes met and a jolt of pure happiness ran through his body. She walked quickly across the room, and before he had time to even think, she was in his arms. Kissing him fiercely, she wrapped her legs around his waist, the cradle of her thighs snug up against his now rapidly hardening erection. One hand clung to his neck. The other was nimbly undoing the laces of his pants.

"Ellen," he gasped, unable to catch breath.

"Don't talk, Tom Builder," she whispered. "I've waited for you for so long and now you're here I don't want to talk."

She slipped her hand inside his pants, wrapped her fingers around his heavy cock. "I want you," she breathed.

"But …"

"I want you now," she murmured, fiercely.

Tom needed no second invitation. The sexual tension that had been building up inside him all month exploded, and with her mouth locked against his and her legs wrapped around him, he took a few steps towards the rear of the cave backing her hard up against the wall.

Her feet dropped to the slight ledge at the base of the cave wall and she took her hand from around his neck as she felt the stone behind her head, held him around the waist. He held her face in his hands, kissed her mouth, kissed her eyes, kissed her neck. He slipped her dress easily off of her shoulders so it hung from her waist, and she pressed her naked breasts into him as he ran a trail of tiny kisses down her throat.

He ran his hands over her breasts, down her body, further down her thigh. He slipped his fingers under the skirt of her dress, stroked his rough hand up her leg and over her hip to the warmth between her thighs. He groaned as she ran the inside of her leg up along his and slipped it around his waist, opening herself to him. She still had her fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking him, caressing him, and as he ran his hand under her knee, supporting her leg around his hip, she moved him until the engorged head of his eager erection was bathed in her warmth.

"Oh Ellen," he groaned, and with a smooth thrust of his hips he pushed deep inside her. He held her knee tightly to his side as he bent his legs to get better purchase, to get deeper into her.

Fuck, he hadn't been in this cave even 2 minutes and he was already inside her. This wasn't how he'd planned it would happen. But it felt good. She felt good.

As he thrust into her, he pushed her hard up against the wall and she gasped.

"Am I hurting you?" he murmured, as he kissed her face.

"No, you're fucking me hard," she replied breathlessly "and I want you to keep doing it. It feels good having you inside me again, Tom Builder."

As usual her erotic words rendered him almost speechless. All he could do was groan as he pushed himself again and again into the warmth of her body, kissing her face, touching her.

"I want you back," he said as he thrust hard up into her, his mouth on her face. "I miss you so."

"Philip wouldn't be happy," she replied, pulling back from him a little.

He paused, "he would if we were married."

"Why must the church always dictate our life?" Her hands around his waist slid down over his backside. He had stopped pushing into her momentarily and she didn't like the interruption.

"Well, you know Philip. He worries about your soul," he replied, nuzzling into her face.

She smiled at his making fun of the gentle monk.

"Philip can just stop worrying. Even if we did marry, it's no guarantee that I won't be burned. I'm still an outlaw Tom Builder."

"But I can't just…" He was breathing heavily, hungry for her body.

"I know." She stilled his words with her mouth. She didn't want to talk about this now. She just wanted to feel his strong, hard body against hers. She wanted to lose herself in his lips, wanted to feel his rough hands on her skin, his beard against her face. She wanted to drink in his male scent, wanted to surrender to his strength and his masculinity.

She was an independent woman. Had needed to rely on her intelligence and cunning ever since she had left the convent. Had been forced to fend for herself, raise her child, protect them both. But pinned up against the wall of the cave with Tom's big body pressed hard against hers, with his brute of a cock thrusting deep inside her, with his mouth on her face and his hot breath on her skin, his dark wet hair under her fingers and his big warm hands on her breasts, she would gladly have given up every scrap of her independence to stay suspended with him in that single moment of time.

"Harder," she whispered to him, "harder Tom."

"If I go any harder I'm going to come. I'm trying not to…." His voice was ragged and hungry.

"Come for me Tom, come hard, fill me", she urged him on.

"Ellen…"

He gritted his teeth and ran his hands down to her buttocks, lifted her up against him so he could get a deeper angle. And as he slammed into her, as he desperately lost himself to her, he groaned her name from deep inside his chest, and she smiled.

He was hers again.

…

They stood for a while leaning against the wall, wrapped together, kissing, touching, breathing. Eventually, when they had untangled their limbs and adjusted their clothing, they sat by the fire.

"You need to get dry Tom," she said as she rubbed his hair dry. "I'm concerned you'll catch a chill."

"I'll be fine," he said laughing. "I've been wet before."

She busied herself getting him some food and something to drink, and he watched her contentedly.

As they sat eating and warming by the fire, they talked about the progress of the cathedral and she asked him about Jack. He didn't tell her that he and Alfred were still fighting. But he did tell her of his remarkable progress with the statue of St Adolphous. "He has a real talent Ellen, he'll be a great mason one day."

She smiled. "He will be a great mason because he has a great teacher."

He paused. Studied her intently.

"I really do want you back," he said taking a drink. "I can't bear being apart from you like this."

He shook his head. "Philip and I talked before you left. He said that if we married and you came back to the church that he would protect you."

"I love you Tom and if I thought that marrying you was all it would take I would do it in an instant. I will marry you, of course I will marry you. But I can't come back to the church." She shook her head sadly.

"But why, what difference does it really make?"

"I watched my lover burn, Tom. I watched my lover burn at the hands of corrupt men. Corrupt, evil men who use the church for their own ends. To gain power and wealth. Do you not see the hypocrisy?"

He looked at her thoughtfully.

Eventually he spoke. "It doesn't matter where you go or who you deal with there's always hypocrisy and corruption and evil. All the time God's church is controlled by men, those things will always exist. But that's why we need good people in the church. People who are willing to stand up and fight against it."

"I understand that Tom, and that is why you must build your cathedral. To make something beautiful that will stand above the evil, that will reach out to God, become a meeting place between the common man and God. And when you have built it, I will come there and I will speak to Him and He will understand why I have turned my back on the church. I haven't turned my back against God, I have turned my back against the evil of man.

He sighed, shook his head "Just come back with me Ellen. You don't have to believe what you tell them. Just come back as my wife and work with me to build the cathedral. We can build it together. You and I understand the truth about the church, but we have to work within its constraints. The church does rule our lives whether we like it or not and trying to deny that will get you nowhere in the end. You need to work from within to make the most impact, like a mouse eating a piece of cheese from the inside until the soft centre is gone and all there is left is the empty rind."

She knelt in front of him, took him by the hands. Looked searchingly into his face.

"But don't you see Tom, if I come back to the church, if I pretend to come back to the church, then I will be that piece of cheese. With my centre gone and nothing left but an empty rind. You know me Tom, you know I can't be that controlled. I would only end up getting myself in trouble, and I already have enough enemies. Enough enemies who would see me burn at the first opportunity."

He sighed. "Philip and I will protect you. I love you Ellen, I can't live apart from you like this forever. You have to reconsider your position."

"And I love you Tom," she murmured, kissing his face. "But you and I both know that you and Philip can't protect me."

He kissed her back slowly. And as they sat, foreheads touching, lips brushing, they both knew there was nothing more to be said.

…

"Here," she cut him off some more bread, and put it on his plate, gave him another bowl of rabbit broth and topped up his mug of wine. "Eat Tom, you need to keep up your strength for the quarry tomorrow. And I don't want you catching cold from that rain."

They sat and ate and talked, and when she was sure he was full and warm and relaxed, Ellen stood and cleared away the empty bowls and plates and mugs.

When she had finished, she stood before him as he lay by the fire, and as he raised his eyebrows quizzically, she slowly began to remove her clothing, her light cape, her wrap, her dress.

As the last of her clothes fell to the floor and she stood before him naked, his eyes drank in the sight of her body. She didn't rush him, watched his eyes run slowly over the swell of her breasts, the curve of her waist, the feminine flare of her hips, down to the dark hair between her legs, her soft thighs, her long legs, her feet.

She watched his nostrils flare and his eyes narrow. Tom had not had the luxury of languidly feasting his eyes on the sight of a fully naked woman for a very long time and he was in no rush for this to end, despite the pounding of the blood in his ears as it rushed from his brain to his cock.

She smiled at his primal reaction, saw the rise of his pants as his arousal grew.

"Your turn now, Tom Builder," she whispered with a seductive smile.

"You want me to….?" he laughed.

She nodded. "We're alone. Completely alone, And I want to see you. I want to see your body… all of it."

"But…" he raised his eyebrows.

"No buts."

Slowly, and somewhat reluctantly, Tom pulled his tunic up over his head and bent over to remove his boots and leg wraps. She smiled as she watched the interplay of the muscles in his back as he leaned forward in front of her.

"Stand up" she said. As he slowly got to his feet and stood in front of her, she gazed at his strong mason's arms and his muscular chest covered with a drift of dark hair, and saw him hesitate.

'Now your pants," she whispered.

He was obviously reluctant. "Don't worry Tom," she smiled gently at him. "I can already see how hard you are. There's no need to hide your big beautiful cock from me."

He breathed deeply, "Ellen, you…."

She stepped towards him, began to unlace the ties on his pants herself, drew them down his legs, kneeling before him as she did so.

He looked down at her serene face as she gazed up at him from her postion on her knees, and for a moment he pictured her lips wrapped erotically around him. She ran her palms up the front of his strong legs to the top of his thighs and as she kissed him slowly low on the hip, she watched the pearl bead of his arousal burst and coat the tip of his straining cock.

She stood and kissed him gently on the lips. He pulled her into him and wrapped his arms completely around her, hugging her close into his body, and for a moment they stood completely naked, skin on skin for the very first time.

"You're so warm," he whispered. "So warm and soft and beautiful. I just want to hold you."

She ran her hands down his back from his strong shoulders to his muscular buttocks.

"Tom Builder," she murmured. "We are alone, completely alone. And I want to make love to you. Not just have sex up against the cave wall or half dressed under a cloak or in a hay loft. I want to be naked with you Tom. Naked and uninhibited and free."

He groaned in anticipation of what the night would hold and kissed her passionately, his hands roaming over her naked body. Her tongue snaked around in his mouth and his cock leapt again.

"Ellen," he murmured into her mouth, "I'm sorry, I just wanted to be with you and talk to you but you make me so…."

"Sssh," she whispered, as they sank down into the welcoming warmth of her bed, her soft woollen blanket spread over a thick layer of ferns.

They lay together, kissing, touching, exploring each other's bodies. Slowly, languidly, as far removed from the harsh reality of their difficult lives as they could ever be.

She could feel the pulse of his erection pressing into her thigh as they kissed. It would take very little for him to slip inside her again, but for as much as she loved to feel him pounding into her, she knew it was time to slow him down if she was to teach him. Teach him to make love to her the way she wanted him to.

"Tom," she whispered, "Tom."

"Mmmmm," he murmured, his face buried into the side of her neck, his hands caressing her body.

"Tom, go over to the table and fetch the small pot."

He raised his head and frowned at her. "Why?"

"Ssssh, just do as I ask," she said putting a finger to his lips.

"But…."

"No buts Tom"

He rose reluctantly from the warmth of the bed and the feel of her body, and she smiled to herself as she watched him walk the few steps to the table and pick up a small earthenware pot.

He turned to her, questioningly. "This one?"

She nodded, smiling at the sight of his strong naked body, his hard cock jutting defiantly upwards, the tip glistening with his pre-cum in the firelight.

He knelt back down next to her and she smiled. He raised his eyebrows. "Is it honey?"

She nodded

"What do you want honey…?" He frowned. "You don't want me to…? Ellen, you don't…?"

She smiled. He appeared to be lost for words.

He drew breath. Agnes would never have let him lick honey off of her. Even when she had been young and relatively uninhibited, when her body was tight and firm and his lust had been insatiable, she would never have let him lick honey off of her body.

He lifted the lid, drew the wooden spoon from inside the small earthenware pot, and tentatively drizzled some of the thick amber liquid on her neck, bent down and kissed it off. The wild honey was sweet and heady.

"More than that Tom" she whispered seductively.

He raised his eyebrows questioningly as he dripped a line from her neck, down her cleavage. She gently put her hand on his, and guided it to the right so that the line of honey drizzled slowly onto her nipple.

"Now you can lick it off," she murmured, "with your tongue."

He could hardly believe she was asking him to do this. He loved her breasts. Loved the seductive swell, the softness, the hardness of her nipples under his palm, and as he lowered his head and began slowly circling the tip of his tongue around the puckered tip of her nipple, he thought he could barely be happier.

She arched her back under his mouth and groaned his name. Her reaction spurred him on and he took the whole of her breast in his mouth, suckling her, one big hand around her back holding her up to him.

He repeated the action on her left side, drizzling the honey in a circular pattern around her breast, and following the trail with his tongue all the way to the tip of her sensitive nipple.

She smiled to herself; she could tell he was going to be a very good pupil.

"Now my belly," she whispered.

He looked at her for a moment, eyebrows raised, silently questioning the implication in her words.

"Then lower," she added.

He swallowed. When they had been young, he'd begged Agnes to let him bury his face between her thighs, he'd wanted to explore every inch of her beautiful young body. But she'd been firm with him and even when she'd flinched with the pain of his big cock thrusting into her, she hadn't given in. He knew he could make her wetter with his tongue, that it would be easier for her to take him inside her if she'd just let him make her come first, but she was embarrassed by the idea. And after she had given birth, and they had the responsibilities of parenthood to deal with, the conversation had never come up again.

But now this woman, this passionate, lustful woman was asking him to lick her, instructing him to do to her what he had always imagined, and the thought was driving him wild with desire.

With a shaky hand, he took a spoonful of honey and, holding it high above her, drizzled a trail of the sweet, thick, liquid along her soft belly and down to the dark hair between her legs. He bent his head to her body, and as she played with the hair on the back of his head, he kissed and licked the delicious stickiness from her.

There was a pool of honey in her navel and he lapped at it with the very tip of his tongue like a kitten would lap a puddle of spilt milk. She murmured and writhed a little at the sensation as he moved lower from her navel, over her lower belly. There were a few silvery marks on her skin from her pregnancy with Jack and he licked along the length of them, down to her patch of hair. The honey had made her sticky and he ran his tongue around playfully, making her laugh.

As he reached for the honey pot again, he moved from her side to between her legs. He ran his hands slowly up her thighs, gently pushing her legs apart until she was spread open in front of him.

He knelt between her thighs, his cock straining towards her and it took all of his strength not to just thrust into her, not to just bury himself in her warm, wet centre. But he took the spoon and drizzled the warm honey over her and along her and in her.

And with a self satisfied sigh, he sank his mouth over her, burying his tongue in her, tasting the sweet honey mixed with the tartness of her.

She arched her back and moaned unashamedly as she felt his mouth and his lips and his tongue. Felt the soft hair of his beard tickle her inner thighs.

"Gently Tom," she murmured.

He was enthusiastic in his caress, and she gave him quiet guidance as to what she enjoyed. His broad, lavish tongue was remarkably adept at giving her exactly what she needed and she was finding it hard to believe he was a novice.

Finally, when she could barely hold on any longer, he took her in his mouth and sucked her gently but firmly, bringing her to a loud and shattering climax.

He was on the very edge himself. The sheer erotic power of this act was driving him wild; her intense reactions to his mouth were almost more than he could bear. He had to hold back from reaching down to his dripping cock, just a few firm strokes with his hand was all it would take for him to come, he was so desperately aroused.

He was hungry for release, and as she arched her back and screamed his name, as he felt her throb and pulse in his mouth, he drew himself up on his knees, and holding her hips, thrust into her hard and deep. He could feel her body pulsing, could feel the sharp contractions of her muscles around his hard cock, could feel the heat of her core, the wetness at her very centre.

"Tom… Tom… Tom…" she gasped as he rammed into her. His thick cock was stretching her wide, extending her climax with each thrust. And when he threw his head back and groaned his powerful release, she felt him fill her full and hot with his passion.

…

As they lay together in Ellen's soft bed of ferns and wool, Tom kissed the top of her head.

She was sleeping gently but his mind was having trouble shutting down. He was anxious about starting at the quarry tomorrow. It was important to establish the supply of stone for the cathedral. The start had already been delayed for so long and he was itching to get it going. He hoped the men he had organised to work in the quarry would turn up and be hard workers. They had a good reputation in these parts, but in Tom's experience, things had a habit of not working out as he had planned. He crossed himself and made a silent prayer, asking for assistance in the quarry the next day.

She stirred a little in his arms. Thinking of God made him think about the conversation he'd had with Ellen earlier. Although he had never let onto her, the business about her being a so called witch deeply unsettled him. Sometimes, when his mind was fixated on her, when he could think of no one else, he wondered if she had indeed bewitched him. If she was a witch, he knew she would eventually burn in hell and he couldn't bear the thought of that fate for her. He couldn't honestly believe that she was though; didn't see her that way. If anything, he saw her as a part of the forest and the wind and the land, an earth creature, a nymph, a faerie.

But whomever she was, whatever she was, he had still missed her. And not just her body. He missed her companionship, her support, her advice. He missed having that closeness with her, another adult with whom he could share his daily life, his thoughts. He missed her hand on his arm when he was worried. The smile on her face when they shared a joke. He loved her and it was her love that he missed above all else.

And he worried about her. He knew that she had lived for a long time in the forest, but she had Jack with her then. Tom worried about her; a woman alone in the forest. He needed to be with her, to protect her. It cut at his heart knowing that she was here alone hiding, while he was safe and well fed in the priory. But there was nothing he could do; his hands were tied. To be visiting here too often to check on her would arouse the suspicions of the monks. And would risk her location being found out.

It was only because no one else knew of this place that she could risk staying here at all. Only he and the children knew of the cave's existence. But none of them knew that Ellen was here; he had told no one. He didn't trust Alfred not to go running to the monks with the information; Jack probably knew exactly where his mother would go but had enough sense not to say anything; and Martha just didn't need to know.

But until she agreed to marry him, until she agreed to go back to the church, she could never come back to the priory. Her assertion that even if she did as Philip had demanded, that there was no guarantee that she wouldn't burn, chilled him to the bone. The thought of her being put to the stake was more than he could bear. But the thought of never being able to live normally as husband and wife also terrified him.

If he considered the future, he just despaired. But he could see nothing that he could do to change the situation. Until he could convince Ellen that she would be safe at the priory, until he could convince her to marry him, could convince her to come back to the church as per his arrangement with Philip, it was apparent that she would refuse to return. Would stay in hiding indefinitely. But he knew it was Waleran Bigod that she could not bring herself to trust. She had told him the story of Jack's father. He knew it was Bigod who had been her priest confessor, one of the three she had cursed. And he knew as well as she did that Bigod wanted her dead.

And so he lay, churning thoughts around in his mind, over and over, but getting nowhere. There was no apparent solution at this point, and until there was, Ellen would remain in the cave and he had to continue on alone.

Eventually he drifted off into an uneasy sleep. He was conscious of her naked body pressed against his throughout the night though, and never fell into a deep sleep. Finally, as he saw the sky beginning to lighten through the branches in opening of the cave, he knew it was time to leave. He had to get back to Kingsbridge before the sun was very high in the sky. It was going to be a big day and he didn't want a lot of people asking a lot of questions about his absence, or Jack and Alfred fighting in the light of day when it was apparent that he wasn't there.

He was acutely aware of the urgent throb of his cock though. He couldn't leave this bed, couldn't leave this beautiful naked woman without making love to her one more time. They were spooned tightly together as they had been all night, neither wanting to break the contact, neither wanting to lose the touch of the other's skin.

One of his big hands was wrapped protectively around the softness of her breasts, the other around her waist. He slid this hand down the length of her body, gliding seductively over her curves, enjoying the soft warmth of her skin. He nuzzled his face into the side of her neck and she pushed back into him, rubbing her backside against his thick cock.

No words were needed, just a mutual understanding of their desires. She moved her upper leg, hooked it backwards over his knee and he gripped her by the hip as he pushed into her.

"Ellen," he murmured into her ear, as he sank into the welcoming warmth of her body. "I want to wake up with you every day. I love you."

She reached her hand up and placed it on his face. "Don't make this any harder on both of us than it already is Tom. Just clear your mind and enjoy the pleasure while we have it."

He could feel his climax building, he always came quickly in the mornings, but he didn't want to end this so soon. He slowed his thrusts and ran his hand down the front of her belly, slid his fingers between her legs. He had been shamelessly aroused by her lack of inhibition the previous night, the sight of her face as she came, the reaction of her body to his erotic touch, her moans as he sank his tongue into her body. And he wanted more of that, didn't just want to thrust into her for his own simple pleasure.

He dipped his finger gently into her, pausing to caress her intimately at the junction where his cock was buried inside her. He drew her wetness slowly up and along, caressing her sensitive nub of nerves with his slick finger. As she had shown him last night, he stroked her slowly and gently with his long wet finger, not rushing, careful not to touch her roughly. She moaned and writhed under his touch and he wound his tongue around her ear.

"Tom," she gasped. He had been a willing pupil the previous evening, but she hadn't imagined that his fingers could feel so skilfully erotic so quickly. If he could do this with his fingers already, she could only dream about what he could do to her with his big broad tongue next time they made love. And as her mind wandered, imagining his dark head between her thighs again, lapping at her, sucking her, she sank into a long slow shuddering orgasm.

He felt the waves of her climax as they ran through her body, felt her move in his arms, felt her muscles clench around his cock, drawing him deeper into her, sucking him, and he moved his hand to her hip. He gripped her tightly as he rammed hard into her, until his barely constrained climax ripped through him, exploding deep into the heat of her body, and they pulsed and sank together, surrendered themselves to the waves of pleasure, waves of love.

"I love you Tom Builder," he heard her murmur and he put his mouth to her ear. "And I you, my love." he whispered.

…

He held her tightly in his arms until finally, he gathered the strength to drag himself away from her and out of the warm bed.

She lay on her side and watched him sadly as he dressed. Sad to see his strong body being covered in layers of workman's clothes, sad to see her beautiful lover transform back into a mason, sad to know he must soon leave.

As he gathered his cape and his bag, she rose from the bed and wrapping her light robe around her, came with him to the entrance of the cave. They held each other in the long and melancholic embrace of two lovers unsure of when they will meet again.

"What shall happen to us Tom Builder?" she asked wistfully, running her hands over his bearded face, "I can't bear to be apart from you."

"Marry me," he looked into her eyes searchingly. "Marry me and Philip will protect you. You will be safe in the priory. I will keep you safe."

"You can't protect me Tom, Philip can't protect me. Until Waleran Bigod is no more, no one can protect me. He is an evil man, and until evil men no longer control the church, I can never return to it. You know that."

"Ellen," his eyes had the desperate look of a man who was clinging onto his happiness. "We will work something out. I can't live apart from you like this. I need you with me."

They kissed, longingly, desperately, sadly. "When will I see you again, he whispered."

"You will see me when you least expect it Tom Builder," she murmured into his mouth.

She drew back from him a little. Placed her hand on his chest. "Our hearts will be together even if our bodies are apart. Please believe that Tom. I love you."

And with that, she turned and went back inside the cave. Tears streamed down her face and she didn't want him to see her cry. It would upset him and she needed him to be strong.

He turned sadly and mounted his horse. Rode off into the pale dawn light of the forest with tears in his eyes and a heavy heart.

Before he was out of sight of the cave, he pulled his horse up and turned to look at it one more time. She was standing in the entrance, her arms wrapped around her body against the cold morning.

Desperately trying to contain the urge to turn the horse and gallop straight back into her arms, he raised his hand in a half wave. She placed her fingers to her lips and blew him a kiss.

And as the chill of the morning breeze fluttered the leaves of the forest trees, he felt her gentle kiss touch his face and he smiled.


End file.
